A Band of Marauders
by StarsAreMassive
Summary: The formative moments of that group of boys we love so dearly. A series following how the bonds of friendship were formed, from the Hogwarts Express to the First Wizarding War.
1. King' Cross

**Good evening my loves. Welcome to my new fic. I haven't posted on here in a while because, you know, life happened.**

 **This fic will be about the formative moments of the four boys we all know and love as the Marauders. There'll be six chapters, possibly one or two more, but six at least.**

 **Up first, we have that fateful meeting on the Hogwarts Express!**

 **If you like what you read, head over to my tumblr: .com. I have loads of 'mini-fics' and headcanons and convos that aren't published here, and I'm always happy to answer any asks, whether it's for some writing or you just want a chat or maybe even you want to know something about me.**

 **But, for now, enjoy! Reviews are, of course, always a pleasure.**

* * *

Not all brothers are the same, and there are many different kinds of brotherhood. There were, of course, brothers who were more than just blood, but two halves of a whole, their movements and minds, hearts and spirits in sync not through years of fraternity, but from that moment upon meeting and their souls could finally say, A _h! There you are!_ These were the brothers James and Sirius.

Then there were the brothers who worked hard to forge something strong. They would work out and beat down the bitter tastes of uncertainty and strangerhood and they too would know each other well, and perhaps appreciate it all the more, so hard had they toiled to form the bond. These were the brothers James and Remus.

Some brothers were idols, of course. Something to be worshipped and admired, and not even the harsh reality of truth could tarnish the image for they could do no wrong. A brother would encourage this, foster this devotion for the warmth of feeling it spread through his mind and through his chest. It was an unequal bond, but stronger for it. These were the brothers James and Peter.

Other brothers were there to sooth, to comfort, to nurture. Where hurts lingered beneath the surface these brothers would draw it out, smooth it out and try to heal. Sometimes conscious, sometimes not, these brothers were grateful, loved each other and needed each other. These were the brothers Remus and Sirius.

But there were also the brothers who could not meet as equals. Clouded eyes that could never see the other quite clearly and tongues that found it hard to match and _be_ understood. Such differences did not necessarily negate love however, and each of these brothers _gave_ something to each other: one a protector and a shield, the other something to _be_ protected – a purpose, a charge. Gifts, yes, but gifts that were sometimes resented. These were the brothers Sirius and Peter.

Our brothers met on a bright and crisp 1st of September in the busy London thoroughfare of King's Cross station. For some of them the event that brought them there was eagerly anticipated but wholly expected and for others, a privilege they feared could be taken away at any moment (so sure he was it was a mistake). Yet, all four brothers had been accepted at a school of prestigious learning, After being ushered off by the families to the gleaming, scarlet train (some more enthusiastically than others) they found themselves abound for new realms of adventure.

Sirius felt really quite grown up. Where other parents, terrible parents, had cuddled and teared over their children on the platform, Walburga and Orion Black had only reminded him of how to conduct himself as their heir of Black and sent him off with a clap on the shoulder and a pat on the head. Even little Regulus had only handed him his small case, helping him onto the train and cast a breathless smile before rushing back to mother and father. And, well, since Sirius was _not_ an infant, he felt now was a very good time indeed to exercise his independence and maturity.

 _You may find your cousins, Sirius_ , father had instructed. _They will introduce you to some acceptable children._

And yet, seeing as all his cousins were girls and so wouldn't be Blacks forever, Sirius didn't really feel he had to listen to them all that much. He would be a Black forever – _head of the family_ one day, as father had told him, and a Black didn't take direction from anyone. So Sirius bypassed the carriage that barely contained Bella's shrill laughter and made his way through the train for a compartment of his own choosing. He wold introduce himself to other children. Eleven year olds were perfectly capable of that thank you _very_ much, father.

Passing one compartment, one whole carriage away from Bellatrix, he heard some noises that demanded investigating. Sliding open the door, he saw there were two figures inside as opposite as they could be. One was skinny as a wand, the other round as a bludger. One was dark-haired and smiling, the other blonde and biting his lip, worried-like. One was brandishing his wand and the other had it sat on the seat as far away from him as it could be.

"Y-you can't set off fireworks inside!" said the Other. "Something will catch!"

"No it won't," said One. "Relax Pete, I – oh! Hello!"

One and other – Pete – had finally noticed him. Sirius nodded and raised a brow, like he saw Father do.

"Looking for a seat are you? Well, plenty room here. I'm James! And this is Peter."

Peter waved. Sirius stepped into the carriage, sliding the door closed behind him, holding his hand out to James – the friendly one.

"Sirius Black."

"Ah. Black." James puffed up his tiny chest and grabbed the proffered hand with surprising vigour. "Nice to meet you, chap! Jolly good." He was teasing, Sirius realised. "An honour, _really_."

Sirius slunk into the seat next to where James had been sitting. His brow however had yet to come down.

"Sorry," Peter apologised to his shoes. "James is, well, he's a bit excited isn't he?" Like Sirius would know him better after only a few moments acquaintance. "I think it's making him a bit…funny."

And James looked flabbergasted, wounded even. Sirius flicked his medium-length hair. "Uncle Alphard says you aren't having any fun at all if you're not at least half mad."

And now James looked wicked, eyeing him. "How come you're not bunked down with the Slytherins?" He was too gleeful to be really suspicious.

"They're not interesting, and I wasn't interested."

"They're horrible," Peter side-eyed him.

"And you would know?"

James shrugged. "They're Slytherins, mate."

"Not horrible – just boring, and terribly stuffy," like he didn't know that's exactly what James thought of him. Though he suspected he thought it was funny, not awful. "If I'd wanted to hear about house politics and how everyone in the carriage was connected to the family I would have stayed at home. Mother hosts enough parties for that."

James sniggered. "Ah – the curse of a pureblood." He patted Sirius in sympathy. "The you're stuck with us! We're trying to catch fires."

"No we're _not_!" It was the most assertive Peter had been since he slid in here, Sirius thought, and even then he was wringing his hands and tapping his feet in the most horribly staccato rhythm.

"It's a magical train, Pete! We can't burn it down."

"That doesn't mean we should try!"

Sirius grinned and it looked a little too wide for his smooth and pretty eleven-year-old face. ""Yes it does."

And with two wands raised into the air and a rather brief disagreement on the correct flourish in _Incendio_ , ("It's on the _-dio_!" "No, it's the _-en_ -dio. Reg and I do this all the time.") a soft voice said " _Oh_ " and managed to prevent the burning of the Hogwarts Express.

"I – perhaps I should find somewhere else. Sorry –"

James called. "Oi!" and Sirius hooked a finger into a stranger's collar and tugged him back – a moment of almost telepathic synchronicity.

The newcomer was flush against the compartment door, despite James haven taken his seat gain and Sirius a good step backwards. Pale knobbly fingers clutched at a tatty book and pressed it into his chest.

"I won't tell," he whispered. "I promise I'll just – leave, I'll-"

"Does he think we're Slytherins, Peter?" Sirius kept his eyes on Newcomer.

James snorted. "Not likely. Have a seat, there!"

"No I don't-"

Sirius grasped his shoulders, tugged him from the door, manoeuvred him into a seat. Peter lurched for his wand lest Newcomer sit on it. It was very brand new and he would be heartbroken to snap it. Newcomer sat with a flump.

"Hush," Sirius said and took his own seat.

Peter liked Newcomer. Newcomer was quiet – not bold or brash or confidant like those raven-haired boys across the way. No, Newcomer would be like Peter. Peter had decided.

"Pete," he waggled his fingers at him.

"I- Remus."

He frowned, like the name displeased him. "Are you a pureblood, too? Sirius has a daft name as well." James guffawed and Sirius groaned.

"What? I – no? Why, what –"

"Well you don't have names like James and me. Purebloods like that sort of thing."

"Here," James berated as far as an eleven year old could berate. "Mine are pureblood and not a ridiculous name to be found in our house."

"You said you had a cousin named Elvendork."

Remus loosened his clutch of tatty-book. Sirius flicked his hair again. They spoke with one incredulous voice. "Elvendork?"

"Well excuse me, Mr Wolf-baby and Lord - Lord Dog Star, which is actually pretty cool, but still!. Elvendork's respectable compared to those."

He didn't mean to say it, but Remus' mouth opened anyway. "It really isn't."

Sirius chimed in. "Not even close."

"Thanks Peter," James mumbled darkly.

"Chin up, James," Sirius smiled lop-sided, looking at Remus. "If you're lucky Remus here might have a brother –"

"I d-"

"Called Romulus."

James looked very nearly pleading. "-don't. Er, sorry?"

"S'alright. Elf's a prat anyway."

And Peter was sitting there wishing he hadn't brought up the subject of pureblood names. Sirius wasn't supposed to be teasing Remus so easily already. James wasn't supposed to be trying so hard to make him feel welcome yet. He – Peter – needed a particular friend, and Sirius' arrival had made that clear that was not going to be James. So he tried again.

"What house do you think you'll be in Remus? Ravenclaw, or?" He pointed to the tatty-book.

Remus shrugged quite delicately. "I really don't know. What – you?"

"Dad's a Hufflepuff," he'd said proudly. "But – but his Uncle's second cousin – Gelda – was a Gryffindor."

"The Potters are Gryffs through and through."

"And the Blacks Slytherins – mostly."

"Always!"

"Mostly, Potter. My cousin was sorted into Ravenclaw a few years ago. Aunt Druella couldn't show her face at Black House for weeks."

Remus felt the need to defend the House Peter had seen fit to relegate him to. "What's wrong with Ravenclaw?"

Sirius shrugged. "I don't know. It's not Slytherin."

So Remus deducted, "That's where you want to go."

Grey eyes looked at him all perplexed. "And be trapped in a dungeon with Bellatrix and Narcissa, bossing and _mothering_ me?" He smirked at James. "Not likely."

"Be a Gryff," James suggested cheerfully. "Can't get further away from Slytherin than that."

"Mother would die of embarrassment." Sirius sounded entirely too pleased at the prospect.

"Dad's not too fussed where I'm put," Peter tugged Remus' sleeve. "Think he's just happy I got my letter. He was worried for a while but it turns out mum had been using it to stop the table wobbling."

Sirius and James were bewildered. "She what?" " _Why?_ "

"She's a muggle, isn't she? She doesn't think of magic first."

James couldn't imagine living like that and he said just as much. Sirius nodded, grim and agreeing.

And for the first time that day all six eye were on him. "She doesn't let dad use it all the time, either. She says it makes you lazy. Says you can't ever learn the meaning of hard work if you solve everything at the flick of a wrist."

The pureblood faces scrunched in distaste and confusion, but Remus nodded, sagely for a boy of eleven. In this too, he was more like Peter. "That makes sense. My mum's the same, sometimes."

Peter nudged him, just a little bit. "Me and you Remus. We'll be working twice as hard and do half as well as those two, swanning around the place."

"Pardon yourself. I do _not_ swan."

"We'll be brilliant, mate."

Remus didn't agree though. Remus didn't actually say much of anything to that – only frowned a bit and put his head down and at length, "Yes, well. We're not likely to get sorted the same, anyway."

Yet, as it turned out, the brothers four were 'sorted the same', becoming Gryffindors together, although only one of them was truly unsurprised. That same evening they discovered that Peter never drank with his meals, that James absolutely hated elbows on the table, that pumpkin nearly made Sirius sick, and that Remus loved chocolate more than anything else in the world. They were still strangers of sorts, of course, but over these small discoveries a fraternal band began to bond that would soon alight the tales of Hogwarts with mischief and infamy, and the magical world with bravery, daring, recklessness, betrayal and a tale never to be forgotten.


	2. Detention

Back with another chapter of our boys. Up next, their first detention. Remember yo can find me on tumblr with loads more headcanons, fics and marauder quotes. I may even be tempted to delve into cosplay sometimes soon... BUT, as for now, I hope you enjoy the chapter.

Stars x

It was a gloomy October, a hallowe'en evening that saw the brothers honing their craft in mischief-making. What would become a time-honoured tradition (for some. For others Hallowe'en would become a day of trepidation for the very same reasons.) began quite auspiciously. The revered headmaster was even permitted to complete his speech and sample his way through many a delicious platter undisturbed. It was not until he had dug a silver spoon into a cut of gooseberry ice-cream that anything out of the ordinary began to happen…

"Swish and flick, swish and flick." He shouldn't have been helping him – really shouldn't have been helping him. The last thing Remus John Lupin needed was to draw attention to himself. He'd promised mum and dad so faithfully, sworn to Dumbledore so sincerely that he would be good and work hard, but then –

In truth he defied even Dumbledore to resist two weeks of pleading looks from Peter Pettigrew, two weeks of James Potter's dogged friendliness and two weeks of the sheer force of will that was Sirius Black. And so there he was at five minute to eight in the evening, providing some last minute coaching to Peter.

"Swish, swish – and a, short 'o'?"

"No a long 'o'. Levi- _oh_ -sa."

"Swish, _oh_ -sa."

"And flick."

"Swish, _oh_ -sa."

"And _flick_ , Peter."

"Swish, _oh_ –"

"Remember the bloody flick, Peter!" Even at the tender age of eleven Sirius Black was short on patience. His knee was bouncing, his jaw clenched and the anticipation was just the wrong side of unbearable. James was no better, staring at his treacle tart as if expecting threats upon his person at any moment.

Two minutes to eight.

Remus' knobbly fingers tugged at the hair above his eyes.

One and a half minutes to eight.

Peter went completely still, ceased all movement but little twitches on his face.

One minute to eight.

James pressed the nose of his glasses down as firmly as he could.

Thirty seconds to eight.

Sirius grinned wolfishly at the peaches.

The second hand on Remus' father's watch ticked over to eight o'clock. The boy himself took a steeling breath.

Albus Dumbledore loved gooseberry ice-cream. Especially with pineapple. But this paragon of desserts lay quite forgotten on his spoon as what appeared to be the entire collection of Slytherin puddings, tarts, treats and sweets rose in the air as one. The Great Hall fell silent. Jellies glinted in the candlelight. Pies wafted fragrant scents above their heads. Cakes bobbed unsteadily – until every plate, bowl and platter upturned their sticky, delicious contents onto the gaping Slytherins below.

\- And then the Great Hall erupted once more. Over a hundred Slytherins sat covered in sponge and cream and gloops of many colours. Custard dripped from Lucius Malfoy's hair. Verne Crabbe was digging spotted dick from his ear. Bellatrix Black had a face full of the finest Black Forrest gateaux. And amidst the chaos Dumbledore's twinkling eyes found four boys who looked none too surprised about this turn of events and did a very poor job indeed of disguising their pride. One side-long look at his esteemed colleague was enough to confirm Minerva McGonagall had noticed this, too.

The Slytherins were _fuming_. James could practically _see_ the steam coming from their ears from his bench. His glasses were fogged up from the breath of his laughs. Tears blurred his eyes. He couldn't see a bloody this and his lungs were burning for breath as he tried to bring himself under control. A dark head thumped to the table beside him. Sirius Black had no such compunctions.

What little you could see of his face was purple. His breaths came in desperate gasps and his shoulders were jumping from the force of his mirth. He whipped his head up in a gale of barks and sniggers and slung both arms around Peter's head – his face, really – dragging him in for a rather perilous embrace. Peter had been responsible for Bellatrix's end of the table.

"Merlin, Peter, perfect! Bloody _perfect_.

Peter was thrilled, so, so very proud he could do what his friends could. Who cared if it took him a little longer to learn? And he'd made _everyone_ laugh (well, nearly everyone). He'd even made Sirius _that_ happy, which they'd quickly found was hard to do when it came to his family. He was so thrilled in fact, that he didn't really mind that it was now getting quite difficult to breathe.

Remus Lupin however was in a quandary. That had been, well frankly that had been incredible. They'd hoped but never expected to charm the whole table. In the seconds following the most satisfying _splats_ of puddings on Slytherin heads, pride had roared through his little heart. They had, after all, worked so _hard_. But in the _next_ few seconds, guilt tempered those proud little flames. Fear of the repercussions positively doused them. He chewed on an already ragged lip and looked nervously to the staff table.

Professors Slughorn and Flitwick were making quick work of the mess at Slytherin table. Dumbledore was happily spooning a pale green mass into his mouth, and McGonagall, strict bun and narrowed eyes was glaring straight at them. More specifically, straight at Sirius who was still behaving far too celebratory. So Remus kicked him.

"Ow!"

"McGonagall's looking," he hissed, though Sirius kicked him right back. " _Sirius_!"

"Git" he sneered. "Let her look. She should be proud."

James nodded, too. "It was brilliant. _We_ were brilliant. Even Googly can't deny that."

Peter squeaked, "James," looking down the table.

"We were doing a service really, if you think about it."

Remus scoffed. "I don't think –"

And Sirius snorted. "You do – too much."

"Now they'll _have_ to wash, Remus. McGonagall will be grateful."

" _James_!"

"I assure you, Mr Potter, that she most certainly will not."

The tall, spindly shadow of the Head of Gryffindor House loomed over them. James turned slowly, trying to delay the inevitable truth. Remus put his head in his hands. Sirius made to leave the table –

-until a deceptively nimble fingers caught him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him back.

"Never have I seen such disruption. You have no respect for other Houses. A complete disgrace to Gryffindor! A-"

"Fantastic bit of spell work, professor."

"Quiet, Potter!" McGonagall brandished Sirius at him. "All four of you will receive detention for this."

James was indignant. Peter was mortified. Remus ducked to avoid the stares of everyone else.

"Oh come _on_ , professor!"

"Oh, _gods_."

Sirius piped up, swinging from McGonagall's clutches. "You can't prove it was us!" He was, as it happened, utterly terrible at protesting his innocence. McGonagall shook him again.

"Which is the _only_ reason I'm not taking house points for this! To your feet, all of you. _Now_." She began dragging Sirius off. "You'll serve your detention for the rest of the evening. Mr Filch will have plenty for you to do."

And so our brother's in mischief were led as a merry troupe past their peers. Some looked upon them with admiration, others in loathing. So different, so wholly unique our brothers were each lost in their own thoughts. One was cajoling and teasing yet inside he felt afraid. For he knew the repercussions and how far this tale had to be spread. Another was ashamed, violently, deeply ashamed and vowed to leave his brothers behind forever. One was nervous yes, but knew he was safe with the others, and the last was guilty and proud and already planning their next adventure, only paying particular attention this time on not getting caught. Individuals, yes, but now and forever together, their lives bound up with each other until road's end.


	3. Discoveries

**I return bearing another update. This time we meet our Marauders as they come to a realisation about one of their number...**

 **Review if you feel so inclined, and remember you can find headcanons, quotes/conversations and other mini-fics at .com. I love follows. Not going to lie. No Shame!**

Between brothers, there a few acts that cut deeper than deception. Through their lives together these brothers would deceive and be deceived time and time again. Yet the very first was discovered on a sticky Summer night, and our brothers soon learned that sometimes they would wish the deception to be true.

"That's the third aunt this year."

"I have five aunts and uncles, James. And those are just the immediate family."

"But-but…Remus isn't a pureblood."

"Don't muggles have big families too, Peter?"

"Yes, obviously, but-"

" _Yes_?"

"It's still a bit suspect, isn't it?"

"See! Even Peter sees it. Christ, Sirius, come one. You were probably taught all about this stuff soon as you could read."

"Precisely – and nothing those bile-swilling Neanderthals told me about _that_ could possibly apply to Remus."

"If, well, if you, believe all that." And James looked at Peter positively triumphant.

"What?" Sirius however, did not.

"All the books – they're not exactly, unbiased are they? And they never look at the person. Only – only the –"

James crept closer to Sirius. " _Wolf_."

Sirius looked murderous. "He. Can't. Be."

"It's the only –"

"I don't give a thestral's arse if it's the only logical explanation! Look for something illogical. He _can't_ be."

"Don't be a Black. Why no-"

"They'll kill him."

Peter looked at Sirius' tie. Looking him in the eye sometimes was too hard. He hadn't thought of that. Of course he hadn't.

But James was emphatic. "No chance. Dumbles knows, he has to. He's safe here." Sirius' lips thinned even more. Peter swallowed back a snort. "And we're not exactly going to announce it in the Great Hall are we?"

A curtain of black hair shook and Peter wasn't entirely sure what Sirius was saying no to. So he spoke for him. "Of course we won't. But what _do_ we do?"

Here, apparently, was as far as James had gotten. He flapped his hands. His eyes were wide as they scanned the room, stumped. He blew air out through his teeth.

Sirius' voice crackled in the silence. "We tell him." James' shoulder slumped in relief and Peter nearly smiled. James Fleamont Potter was utter crap at keeping secrets. So Peter too, breathed.

"Yeah, we tell him. But we have to make sure that he knows we're still his friends."

James smiled, resigned. "That might be your job, Pete. I'll be too busy trying to get this mess out my bloody mouth and this git will be keeping Remus _in the room_. Wouldn't surprise me if he had an emergency plan for this very event."

They hadn't heard the door creak open. "Emergency plans? What in Merlin's name are you three plotting now? A fellow need a break from dodging death and detention every now and then."

James' hands snapped to his hair. Peter froze but one hand gripping the bottom post of his bed a little tighter. Sirius didn't know what else to do but plough straight on ahead.

"Sit down, Remus. We need to talk to you." His nearly fourteen-year-old face was unusually solemn, and his nearly fourteen-year-old voice far too used to being obeyed.

"I'll stand thanks." Though Remus did step closer to his own bed – the one nearest the door. "What's wrong?"

But Sirius didn't say a word. Instead, he strode to the door, blocking Remus' view of it, and gently shoved him onto the bed with both hands firmly planted on his shoulders.

"Sirius!" protested Remus. "Look, I don't have _time_ to try and figure you out right now. I have to get ready. I hav-"

James interrupted. "You're not going to your Auntie's funeral, Remus."

"I _beg_ your p-"

"Because there is no funeral. Is there?"

Just like that Remus' belly filled with lead and ice. He could get up, he should get up and force Sirius out of the way, but. But. _If they know, this will be the last time you'll ever be close to them._ And Remus stayed still.

"I don't know what-"

"Yes you do." Peter's voice was gentle, but his words were not. "Werewolf."

Sirius' fingers weren't quite painful yet, but they were getting there. James' steps were more ominous the closer they got to him. The slip of Peter leaving his own bed sent a shiver through him. "You're mad," he said to all and looked at Sirius.

"Likely."

"But we're also right." James stood at the foot of the bed. "Every illness, emergency, funeral – always right around the full moon. You're a pretty awful liar, Remus. How did you ever think we wouldn't catch on?"

His tawny head sagged and he knew resistance was futile. "You didn't for two years."

James was bitter. "Yeah. Well that's on us."

Remus could do no more than whisper. "Please let me go. I'll leave, right now. I promise. I'll go back home and you won't see me again just – please. Let me go." He couldn't stand to see them turn on him. Anyone else, fine, but not these boys he'd come to love so dearly.

"Letting us down here, Pete." Sirius' grip lessened a bit.

"Well we can't let you go, can we?" Pete's voice was at his ear. "I reckon James is right, Here's the safest place for you with Dumbledore and all. Where would you go if we let you leave. Why would you even want to go? It's not that bad – not embarrassing like when we caught Sirius letting Rhonda Dendrum put –"

Sirius hissed. " _Yes_ , Peter! That's plenty, ta." And now only his fingertips were touching Remus now.

"Embarrassing? I – _embarrassing?_ Are you _kidding_?"

James had the audacity to wink at the werewolf. "Sorry, Rem. Don't really think you can be scary when you've spent most your teenage years so far wrapped in a bloody blanket." He was even sitting in the tartan monstrosity now, as it happened.

Sirius huffed. "That snivelling house elf of mine is more intimidating than you."

Peter patted his head to get his attention. "So we're not running off. And neither are you."

"And we're not telling," James rushed out. Sirius nodded solemnly. Peter patted his head again.

"You – I…you don't hate me? You're, you're not going to…" James tugged his earlobe.

"Let you finish that sentence? Nah, mate."

Peter finally walked into his line of vision. "Dinner's in five minutes. Not got time, I'm afraid."

Remus could only watch, stunned as James giggled and Peter, well _sauntered_ out the dormitory door. He watched one mousy blonde and one messy black head scurry away, not in fear or in a violent rage, but because Peter had threatened to eat all the steak and ale pie. They'd seen him do it before.

But Sirius was still here with him. Sirius who had been raised to look down on half-bloods let alone half-breeds, who had likely grown up hearing things about werewolves even Remus had not.

He smirked.

All that Sirius was, but he was also Sirius who despised nearly every member of his family; who gave Remus the dragon-hide gloves off his own hands because _what kind of shivering idiot wears mittens, Remus?_ Sirius who was the first person outside of his home to even _touch_ him.

Sirius who wrapped an arm around his neck and dropped a kiss against his temple and swept out of the room staking his claim on beefy baked goods.

And Remus sat there and cried.


End file.
